When I close my eyes I remember the beginning. The scars remain but so do the memories. I’m told that things will get better but memories are not as easy to heal.
The lights are off in his house. I can hear the rest of his family asleep throughout the house. I’m sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag. It feels like I’m camping.
He’s in his bed. I’m on the floor next to his bed. I wonder if he’s asleep but I’m unwilling to sit up and look. It’s a quiet night. The absence of extraneous sounds only amplifies the relevant sounds.
Shall I name him? A person from memory? Is this memory what actually happened or a fictionalized version that my brain has created?
I don’t know what time it is. He moves in his bed. I hear him because I’ve been listening in anticipation of hearing him move, which means that he could be awake. I’ve waited for this moment. The first time could have been one of those once in a lifetime moments.
I close my eyes because it’s like a scary movie where you want to know what happens next but you’re afraid to see it actually take place. I close my eyes tightly.
I feel his breath upon my neck. His mouth is so close to my neck that I can feel the warmth of his breath…
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